Design input needed

Help me make a quilt.

I’m working on a new quilt after taking a year off from quilting and I’m a bit rusty.

Can you help me by voting for your favorite combination?

I can pair my floral fabric with Tilda’s Birdpond fabrics:

Or I can pair it with Kate Spain’s Good Fortune:

Which one do you prefer?

Tilda’s Birdpond or Kate Spain’s Good Fortune?

Help a gal out here. . .

Luck

I am working on a new quilt.

It’s been a while since I broke out my rotary cutter, cutting board and sewing machine and made something beautiful.

This quilt is called “Bed of Roses.”

It’s absolutely gorgeous, and relatively simple to make.

As is usually the case, the free pattern I have makes a lap quilt and I want to make a QUEEN size quilt.

Usually, I don’t follow patterns.

I make up my own.

Like this wonderful airplane quilt I made for my nephew.

I actually sold the design to a quilt shop in exchange for free long arm quilting.

Although I can do the calculations to size the quilt up, I broke down and actually bought the full size pattern so that I could save myself the trouble of ALL THOSE CALCULATIONS.

Now, the fun part begins – FABRIC SELECTION!

I need 30 fat quarters to create the quilt and it’s gonna be a lot of fun picking out the colors I want.

The trick to making I good quilt, in my opinion, is finding a good cornerstone fabric to work with.

The colors and patterns in that fabric lay the foundation for the rest of the quilt.

I’ve selected these fabrics:

Lots of colors to work with.

Lots of patterns to work with.

And, of course, a simply gorgeous design.

Wish me luck!

Naked karaoke

I karaoked.

Yes, I did.

But first, let me tell you a little bit about the MeetUp.

About 20 men showed up.

And the only woman there was me.

Nice odds, eh?

Anyway, it was a sausage fest.

There I am, sitting at a table full of men, while someone GARGLED “Thunderstruck.”

Yes, he practically GARGLED the song.

It was wild!

So I get up to sing and discover that the lyrics are being projected to a screen across the room and ME WITHOUT MY GLASSES, I CAN’T READ THEM VERY WELL.

Needless to say, my performance didn’t go as planned.

I was pitchy.

Stiff.

I even started singing in harmony.

Thankfully it was over in less than 5 minutes.

But I’ll tell you this – I’m not going to win any awards for my performance.

I think I’m going to ditch “We Belong” as my karaoke song and find a new one.

“Dancing Queen” by ABBA.

Or “My Immortal” by Evanescence.

Truthfully I love “What’s Going On” by Four Non-Blondes, but I’m just not sure I could pull off such a powerful song.

That, and I have friends from Burning Man who PUT ME TO SHAME when they sing that song.

So there you have it, karaoke on a Wednesday night.

What could be more embarrassing?

I suppose naked karaoke.

That would be a sight!

I’m a quilter

I am a quilter.

I have no idea WHERE the desire to quilt comes from.

I’m not a particularly PATIENT person.

I don’t think of myself as terribly ARTISTIC.

And yet, I quilt.

I’ve made upwards of 30 – 40 quilts so far.

I’ve given all of them away as gifts to friends, families, and ex-boyfriends.

The things I do when I’m in love.

Oy!

Anyway, as it turns out, quilting may be in my DNA.

The Norwegians have a long tradition of quilting.

And I discovered that the lodge I’m trying to join has a history of quilting:

I’m hoping, should they ever respond to my request to join, that this will work in my favor.

I’m a quilter AND a little bit Norwegian.

Check out some of my quilts (sorry for the bad lighting):

Shoot the shit

Tonight I am going to karaoke with a bunch of strangers.

I tried to talk Barbara into going with me so I wouldn’t be all alone but she’s working.

So I’m left to my own devices.

This is a MeetUp event.

And I’m going because I think it’s important for me to get out and do things that I normally wouldn’t do.

Time to make more friends.

Hang out with interesting people.

Sing my head off with Pat Benatar.

“WE BELONG!”

It’s my standard karaoke performance.

That and “My Immortal” by Evanescence.

Which is CONSIDERABLY harder than “We Belong.”

It has been WAY TOO EASY for me to just hang out at home, watching TV, and relaxing with my boys.

I need to get out and mingle.

Shoot the shit.

You never know when you’re going to meet someone awesome.

But I’m pretty sure it’s not going to happen if I keep sitting on the couch in my living room watching reruns of NCIS.

So I’m going out.

Life is Swede

Yes, I’m still on my Swedish kick.

I broke down and clicked on a few links and. . .

  1. I now have a bottle of glögg arriving at my home in a week or two
  2. I signed up for a Beginning Swedish language class starting in January
  3. I figured out where to buy small batch Icelandic vodka
  4. I’m going to stop by Lunardi’s in Los Gatos to pick up akvavit (aqua vit)
  5. I signed up for a few Swedish activities mailing lists and liked a few Swedish FB pages

I’m convinced, if The Swede doesn’t snap me up like the trophy prize I am, that Alexander Skarsgård is destined to fall in love with me and propose marriage.

Ahem.

Yes, I have True Blood fantasies.

AND I can pronounce Skarsgård properly.

If that doesn’t make me perfect for some Swede, then I don’t know what is.

I also decided to buy the cutest little America loves Sweden t-shirt.

TECHNICALLY, I think it’s about Swedish Americans and we’ve established that I’m definitively Norwegian.

But watch me care less about that.

This American likes her Swedes.

Life is Swede.

Scandinavian roots

Okay.

I went a little Swedish crazy.

Yes, I did.

While browsing the internet for Swedish activities – like a trip by the Swedish Society to the Shark Tank to watch a hockey game, I came across ALL SORTS OF GOODIES.

Like Beginning Swedish language classes through the Scandinavian School.

Woot!

I’ve been trying to learn Swedish but it’s hard since I don’t practice speaking the language.

What I really need is people to practice my Swedish with.

I know there’s always The Swede.

But we mostly text and my ability to spell Swedish words is ATROCIOUS.

There are extra vowels in the Swedish language – å, ä, and ö.

They throw me for a loop.

Then, of course I found a link to a Danish Rye Bread Making class and I GOT ALL EXCITED.

Things to do that involve learning Scandinavian arts?

Sign me up!

There’s a MeetUp for Scandinavian crafts, food, and art coming up this weekend that I really want to go to and I got a personal invitation from the organizer.

The downside to all this is that although my DNA says I’m Scandinavian, my ancestry points definitively at Norway.

In the past 200 years I had relatives living in Norway.

So although I might have some Swedish in me (no jokes, folks), we’re now certain there’s a little Norwegian in me.

Nevertheless, I will pursue my interest in all things Swedish.

Especially The Swede.

And just for shits and giggles, I’m posting a picture of Norwegian women here.

Looks like I’m in good company!

Scandinavian

While I was shopping for Barbara’s birthday present, my online research branched off into a tangential research project.

Scandinavian cooking classes.

To be specific, I was looking for Swedish cooking classes.

How do I make those tasty meatballs, is what I want to know.

So there I am, looking for Scandinavian cooking classes (I missed one on November 3rd in Reno by the Daughters of Norway), when I stumble across a resource for Nordic/Baltic goods and services in the Bay Area.

Woot!

On the list, there are a number of Swedish-owned wineries, breweries, and glögg makers.

And just like that, I created a trip for me and The Swede to go on – a tour of Swedish wineries:

  • Field Vineyards
  • Garden Creek Vinyards
  • Gustafson Family Vineyards
  • Sjoeblom Winery
  • Soil & Soul Wines
  • West Wines

Voilá!

Of course my plan does require The Swede to actually PACK A BAG and COME TO CALIFORNIA.

But when he does, I have a wine outing to take him on.

 

 

 

Don’t laugh

….at least don’t laugh harder than me!The lingerie I ordered online arrived in the mail just in time to mock my single status. If you could anthropomorphize a chemise or pee-a-boo babydoll, they would be sticking their tongues out at me, crossing their eyes, and yelling “neener neener neener!”

Here’s a snapshot of the lingerie (and red glitter heels which match my Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz outfit):

photo-30

And this is what made me laugh so hard I almost cried. My uber-gorgeous lingerie with matching microscopic thongs (WTF!!!) didn’t come in wrapping paper. Or tissue. Or little silk bags like I get at the lingerie shop downtown.

No…. my lingerie came in BOXES! At first, I wondered why the hell they were sending me pornos!!!

photo-31

So, FYI….Trashy.com for lingerie. You can find it all.